8;19;09
You moved so gracefully,
When you walked away from me.
From the top of my head,
I’d say you looked like a pen
In the hand of a man
whos been struck with,
inspiration.
You said, your much more the frame,
I’m the picture that sits inside you,
Together i’m less aesthetic,
And I’ll be the taste that makes you art.
I’ll be the color that makes this work.
These walls have eyes,
And this bed knows lies,
That we’ve never said outloud.
This towns got a heart,
we’re what makes it beat.
The kick drum can be the streets
we walk when were singing with our feet, (in harmony)
You look better,
In the sunshine,
cause everybody knows your blind
These colours run gray.
For you to see, so you can say
‘my god, i love the sky today.’
Your hearts not beating it’s counting down
days until its done.
the days not leaving its laying rest.
to what we call the sun.
The stars have made an orchestra,
Led by the moon,
what a beautiful atmosphere,
She sure can carry a tune.
These walls have eyes,
And this bed knows lies,
That we’ve never said outloud.
This towns got a heart,
we’re what makes it beat.
The kick drum can be the streets
we walk when were singing with our feet, (in harmony)
And she was singing
La-da-da-da-da
La-da-da-da-da-da
La-da-da-da-da
La-da-da-da-da-da
La-da-da-da-da
La-da-da-da-da-da
//
Finished a song on the album even though I said I wouldnt work on it until I hungout with an old friend, I no longer trust myself to follow what I say.
